The moment he saw Misaki Yoshimura kneeling on the silk-covered bed in that dimly lit room, candlelight flickering across her flawless skin, his cock twitched with anticipation. She hadn’t even touched him yet—and already, he was lost in the fantasy of what was about to happen. Her almond-shaped eyes locked onto his, dark and sultry, promising nothing but intense pleasure.
Without breaking eye contact, Misaki slowly unzipped his jeans, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Her fingers curled around the waistband, pulling them down just enough to free his hardening shaft. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she took in his size, thick and veiny, already dripping with anticipation. “You’re so big,” she whispered in broken English, her voice like honey laced with sin. Then, with a devilish smile, she leaned forward—and engulfed him in one smooth stroke.
Her mouth was heaven. Hot, wet, and impossibly tight, she began to move with a rhythm that felt almost primal. Her lips stretched perfectly around his girth, her tongue swirling the sensitive ridge beneath the head with every pull back. She wasn’t just sucking him off. She was worshipping his cock like it was sacred. Each stroke was deliberate, deep, and devastatingly effective.
He groaned, fingers tangling in her long black hair as she bobbed faster, her cheeks hollowing. She gagged slightly as she took him deeper, tears forming in the corners of her eyes—but she didn’t stop. Not even for a second. The sight of Misaki, elegant and composed, reduced to a needy, cock-hungry slut for him, sent a jolt straight to his spine. He could feel his balls tightening already.
Then she did something unexpected. One hand slid down, tracing the length of his shaft before cupping his heavy sac. The other teased his perineum, applying just enough pressure to make him buck forward, driving even deeper into her willing throat. Her nose brushed against his pubes as she swallowed him whole again, her throat muscles fluttering around the tip.
“Fuck! Misaki—holy shit—you’re gonna make me—” he choked out, but she only moaned in response, the vibrations shooting through him like electricity.
She pulled back just enough to tease the swollen head with her tongue, spitting on it before wrapping her lips around him once more. The slick sound of her mouth on his cock filled the room, a filthy symphony of saliva and skin. She looked up at him, eyes wide and innocent—but her actions were anything but. That contrast, that perfect blend of purity and depravity, was what pushed him over the edge.
“I’m gonna cum, baby—I can’t hold it—” he warned, but she didn’t pull off. Instead, she moaned again, deep and low, signaling she wanted every drop.
He erupted inside her mouth with a guttural cry, pulsing thick, hot ropes down her throat. She swallowed greedily, some cum leaking from the corner of her lips, glistening in the candlelight. She didn’t stop sucking until he was completely drained, twitching and trembling beneath her touch.
When she finally pulled away, she licked her lips slowly, savoring the taste. “You taste so good,” she purred. “I love giving head. It makes me so wet.”
And there she was—still kneeling, still gorgeous, her lips swollen and shiny from his cum. The promise of more intense pleasure hung in the air like smoke. Because one blowjob wasn’t enough. Not with Misaki Yoshimura. Not when every inch of her was built for sin.
She crawled up his body, straddling his hips, grinding her soaked pussy against his softening cock. “Now,” she whispered, biting his earlobe, “let me show you how I like to come.”
